Dear Suki: Number Five

By Luna Bella

Dear Suki: Redondo Beach, 2001,
if you pause here, you might feel
the sea thundering ribs and spine
against the rock isle. Every ripple
is measured in ohms, eternal, rest-
less, twitching to the sand. This is
the way you had always gathered
a body of sun-pale gown, a turbine
of skin and sweat to be convulsed
with the dressing of mist. I wait for
you through the summer mouth
and citrus sky, pensile, concerting
the way whisper glides past you in
a dream. My dearest Suki: yours is
beauty turned abstract; everyday
you peel moonbeam and pattern my
dark with halcyon lace, collect me
for yourself, much like the illumined
ocean deluges what is in its womb.